


Cover My Eyes, Sweetheart

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Carnival Games, First Dates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He and Phil are out on a date, and he’s supposed to be impressing Phil with his maturity in their new, adult relationship, not playing silly little carnival games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover My Eyes, Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: mild homophobia

He shouldn’t do it. He really, really shouldn’t do it. Nope. As tempting as that silly little game looks, with the neon balloons tacked up in neat rows and the cheap plastic darts scattered across the counter, he really shouldn’t flaunt his skills here. He and Phil are out on a date, and he’s supposed to be impressing Phil with his maturity in their new, adult relationship, not playing silly little carnival games. 

Of course, that’s when the guy manning the booth catches sight of him and Phil very obviously holding hands in the way that two adult men in a platonic relationship never do and gives him a look that could turn the entire cotton candy stand behind them sour. 

Clint decides that there’s really only one proper answer to that. 

"Clint?" Phil asks, confused, and the archer blinks as he realizes that he’s already halfway to the stand. 

"I wanna try out some of the games," Clint replies, his best mischievous smirk smirk on his face as he waves a hand in the direction of the dart throwing booth. "I’m feeling some nostalgia, you know."

"Are you sure - " Phil starts, giving Clint a skeptical look.

"Aw, come on, Phil," Clint pouts, giving his partner his best set of puppy dog eyes. "It’ll be fun." 

Phil glances between Clint and the brightly colored booth, frowning as he makes eye contact with the man standing behind the counter, clearly having received the same dirty look. He grips Clint’s hand a little tighter, and for a moment Clint thinks he’s going to drag them off in the opposite direction.

"Maybe I’ll have to give it a try too," Phil says, a dangerous smile now adorning his face, complimenting Clint’s own. "You’re right - it’ll be fun." 

Clint’s grin broadens and he drags Phil the rest of the way to the booth, reveling in the warmth of Phil’s hand in his and the prospect of getting the booth owner back for his unpleasantness. 

"How much - " he starts, only to be cut off by the other man.

"Five bucks for five darts," the carnival worker interrupts in a distinctly rude tone. 

Clint does his best to not let his smile slip as he pulls out his wallet and digs out five very crumpled - and in some cases taped together - bills. The unpleasant man takes quite a bit longer than strictly necessary examining the money, unfurling them and squinting at them, as if Clint had just handed him Monopoly money. After a few moments, though, he grunts, apparently satisfied, and drops a few darts on the counter in front of the archer. Clint picks one up, testing the weight and wrinkles his nose at the shitty quality. SHIELD his utterly spoiled him when it comes to well made weaponry. He wouldn’t even give these to Phil’s four year old niece.

"Cover my eyes, will you, Babe?” Clint says, looking over at Phil, batting his eyelashes comically and using the first annoying pet name that comes to his mind. 

"If you want me to, Sweetheart,” Phil replies, playing along and trying to maintain a serious expression while carefully covering Clint’s eyes with his gun callused hands. 

Clint leans back into Phil’s chest, relaxing for a moment before throwing the darts in rapid succession, reveling in the feeling of them flying from his hands and the loud pops as they hit their targets. Phil removes his hands so that Clint can admire his work, and admire he does. He grins as he looks over the perfect smiley face he’s made. The archer glances over at the carnival worker and feels a rush of slightly vindictive pleasure at the shocked expression on the man’s face. 

"Uh," the man says, blinking as he realizes that both Clint and Phil are looking at him expectantly. "I suppose you get to pick a prize."

The archer looks up at the selection of stuffed animals, his gaze roaming over the neon pink kittens, bright green unicorns, and the horribly orange puppy dogs. His eyes light up with a mischievous glint as he spots the perfect prize. 

"My boyfriend wants that one," he replies, pointing at the nearly human sized, completely purple teddy bear.

Phil groans, but accepts the large stuffed creature, trying to figure out how to carry it and still see more than a foot in front of him. 

"I am never letting you play darts again," Phil mutters as they walk away from the booth, but then he kisses Clint which kind of undermines his message. 

Clint just smiles and kisses him back.


End file.
